


Gift of Alacrity

by imatrisarahtops



Series: Components: V, S, M [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Caleb Widogast Needs a Hug, Episode 99, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, Pining, Self-Loathing Caleb Widogast, Spoilers, episode 97
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23161714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imatrisarahtops/pseuds/imatrisarahtops
Summary: Caleb takes his usual place between Beauregard and Veth, the halfling curling into is side as he does so. He wraps one arm around her, pulling her tight, while his other presses against Beauregard’s, a sturdy and steady presence beside him as she too leans closer to him in response.As he fails desperately at falling asleep, he tells himself over and over that he already instilled his own punishment on himself, and every day since he has made his best effort to earn his place among these people at his side.He tries not to think about how badly he wants the same for Essek, how badly he wants all of them to want it as well.He tries not to think how this punishment for Essek feels like he too is being punished.Caleb wants to take the next step in the process, wants to be ready to forgive and trust Essek.  But the next move isn't his to make. Takes place during Ep99.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast, Essek Thelyss & Caleb Widogast, Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, Nott & Caleb Widogast, The Mighty Nein & Essek Thelyss, Veth Brenatto & Caleb Widogast
Series: Components: V, S, M [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664953
Comments: 15
Kudos: 142





	Gift of Alacrity

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so I can't be the only one who is experiencing substantial heartbreak over how _uncertain_ Caleb is, right? The _wanting_ to believe in Essek, but still treating him coldly? Look at all of those long-ingrained self-defense mechanisms. Caleb's pain in this episode was more subtle comparatively, but it still killed me.
> 
> He deserved the HELL out of that hug that Beau gave him. I live for Empire Sibling love. Now let's just hope that Veth's spell idea leads to plenty of soft moments with her boy, too.
> 
> Also heeeyyy, this is a series now. All can be read alone but. Yeah!
> 
> * * *
> 
> _I've given everyone I know a good reason to go._  
> 
> 
> _I was surprised you stuck around long enough to figure out_  
> 
> 
> _That it's all alright, I guess it's all alright._  
> 
> 
> _I got nothing left inside of my chest,_  
> 
> 
> _But it's all alright._  
> 
> 
> \- "All Alright" by fun.

Caleb closes his eyes as he grips the rail of the ship, letting the night air whip his cheeks but not quite feeling it.

He wants to make that next step.

He isn’t quite sure he’s ready, but the uncertainty doesn’t bother him because his friends have taught him plenty about leaps of faith and this is one that he wants to take, to push the limits and shatter the expectations and to do what half of his being is screaming at himself not to do.

Caleb wants to trust Essek. He wants to believe that he wants to change, to leave things better than when he found them.

When they speak, when Essek shows up on their ship, in his disguise as Lord Desran Thane, he finds himself slipping back into old habits, into defense mechanisms that were ingrained deeply into his mind. Essek speaks with his usual confidence, his cool and composed exterior, but Caleb can feel the underlying timidness. The silent question of ‘ _is this okay_?’ in every single movement, every fleeting glance around at the Nein — at _Caleb_. 

Caleb wants to assure him, but his tongue betrays him with detached comments and questions. He knows he has every reason to act this way. Essek has yet to prove himself, to earn back any semblance of trust from them. Still, he wants to give him that promised second chance, the same second chance that Caleb himself was offered by his friends.

But Essek teleports away when evening comes and Caleb feels as though they’re in the same state as the peace talks — moving as expected, slow and steady yet uncertain, somehow making progress while also making none at all; and like the peace talks, they end for the evening before resolution, two sides going their separate ways and leaving everything simply _hanging_ for the time being.

Caleb tries to make up for it. When Essek has left and they speak about him, he finds himself — well, not _defending_ him, but perhaps referring to the situation with more hope than he has yet expressed.

And then Veth insists on _punishment_. And then Beauregard reminds him he’s a _criminal_. 

Again he finds himself not arguing on Essek’s behalf, not arguing against their statements, but challenging them — because aren’t there far more people who truly deserve _punishment_ , as Veth put it?

This conversation too seems to end in a strange and delicate balance, and Caleb remains on the deck of the ship while the others begin to ready themselves for bed. He inhales deeply through his nose, breathing in the briny smell of the sea and the sharp coldness of the wind on his face.

He tries to pretend he isn’t hurt, but the pain is almost physical, an insistent itch beneath the skin of his arms. He instinctively moves to scratch before he catches what he’s doing. He slides his hands up to his biceps, massaging the muscle there instead.

He swallows.

For a moment, he’s back in Zadash, back on that night when he was so sure Beauregard was going to ruin what he was starting to grow accustomed to, that almost companionship with these strange and loud creatures. But then he can hear her so plainly tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that he shouldn’t blame himself.

Then, he can practically feel Veth’s — _Nott’s_ — arms around him, still tiny and frail in her goblin form. He can hear her as she says that _yes_ , the things he did were terrible, but only so long as he can’t find it in him to forgive himself.

And then just as suddenly he’s back on the ship, thinking of the man who is so much like him, and the demand for ‘ _punishment_ ’.

He smiles wryly and thinks it is so easy for them to forgive him just because his atrocities did not effect them directly.

He knows it may not be completely comparable, but the similarities are still innumerable to him. Caleb knows that Essek was roughly at the same level of maturity when he handed the beacons over as when Caleb committed murder, both too old and too young at the same time. He knows they both wanted knowledge, willing to pay any price it took to learn and gain power as they did. He knows that had he not broken at the sound of screams at the burning heat of the fire, Caleb would be among those that Essek handed the beacons to, would have been one of the ones who studied it, who gave him the information in return, who had just as much of a part in starting this war.

Both would be war criminals, then. As it stands now, however, they are both traitors to their nation.

Caleb has never thought himself worthy of forgiveness or redemption, but _they_ all did, and a part of him wanted to prove that their faith in him wasn’t wasted.

He wants to give that to Essek.

He has punished himself for too many years to know that is not the same as penance, and certainly not redemption. He wants to leave things better than he found them, to prevent Ickithon from his grotesque experimentations, to condemn the Assembly for turning a blind eye to the torture of children, to bring _peace_ because it is the innocents of each nation that end up hurting most from the war.

His self-inflicted punishment never helped him with any of that.

Undoubtedly, the law would call for Essek’s punishment — surely the Bright Queen would, if she ever learns of his actions — and maybe, were the world a picture painted in black and white, punishment would, in fact, be what Essek deserves. But Caleb is familiar with the vast chromatic scale of the universe, far beyond the range of greyish shades that colored morality, and he knows that punishment is not what should await Essek.

But... he can’t seem to find forgiveness in his heart, yet, either.

War criminal indeed. He cannot deny that. But deserving punishment? He is far less certain.

For now, he tries to keep his mind from spiraling into that dark place. He had compared Essek to himself so openly, and he can’t pretend Veth’s reaction doesn’t sting as a result.

Back in Felderwin, she had blamed _his people_ for hurting her husband.

Not so long ago, she had said the same of _Essek’s people_.

Caleb knows her sense of justice relies heavily on wanting to make the people who hurt her family and friends pay. He understands. He relates. He felt the same way not too long ago.

But he hopes that maybe she can look at Essek the same way she looked at him. For now, he tells himself that she isn’t at that point yet, that to her, the differences between Essek and Caleb are vast and many. He reminds himself that Essek still has so far to go and has yet to make a move.

And Beau... he knows all too well that she likes to play devil’s advocate. He knows her position on these things as expositor. He knows _her_ , and knows that a part of her reaction was meant to be a gentle reminder that Caleb shouldn’t let himself get too close, that Essek could still hurt them.

_Oh, but_ , he thinks, chest aching at the thought, _hadn’t he hurt them so terribly already?_

After quite some time, his mind seems to find a similar calmness as the sea below; what had not so long ago been high crashing waves, dangerous and restless, now smoothing into a gentle rocking movement, almost as though it's at peace. He makes his way below deck, down to where the others have already fallen asleep in a mess of blankets and pillows, tangled limbs as they rest as close as necessary to all fit into the tiny hut. He begins the ritual of casting the dome, shielding them all from the potential dangers outside.

Caleb takes his usual place between Beauregard and Veth, the halfling curling into is side as he does so. He wraps one arm around her, pulling her tight, while his other presses against Beauregard’s, a sturdy and steady presence beside him as she too leans closer to him in response.

As he fails desperately at falling asleep, he tells himself over and over that he already instilled his own punishment on himself, and every day since he has made his best effort to earn his place among these people at his side.

He tries not to think about how badly he wants the same for Essek, how badly he wants all of them to want it as well.

He tries not to think how this punishment for Essek feels like he too is being punished.

* * *

The second day of peace talks progresses quite differently.

There’s the handing over of the Beacon, the exchange of the prisoners.

There’s visible progress.

The conversation with Essek is still so similar to that of the day before — Caleb can’t find the warmth he had felt the previous night, even as he knows there are those in his group who trust Essek even less than he does at the moment. He knows the balance here is so precarious, that perhaps being more kind and open to Essek could shift the tides. He sees how Jester and Caduceus seem to already forgive him, trusting his word that he has intentions of changing. Then, there’s Fjord and Yasha, who almost seem as though they would rather not get involved at all, not wanting to truly form an opinion either way.

Caleb wonders if he has the power to tilt the scale in either direction. He hates that it falls on him, and yet with the infinite similarities between them, he thinks it oddly fitting.

And yet, it isn’t his move in this game that’s being played. He knows he has to wait before he can nudge anything or anyone in the right direction, to tip the weight either way.

Essek meets his eye and Caleb finds himself mentally _begging_ the man for _something_. He wants just a few more moments of Essek _there_ , for him to say something or do something to earn their trust back. He is not a man of faith, but he prays to the Wildmother, to the Traveller, to the Luxon itself that Essek won’t just disappear from the ship and from their lives at that moment for who knows how long — days, weeks, _months_. He wants to somehow start to make this better _now_.

He wants to say something. He wants to speak, to yell at Essek and demand he explain what he’s doing, what he’s _thinking_. He wants to know why Essek is wasting his second chance right now by not taking it immediately, grasping onto it with alacrity and not letting go. Why isn’t he doing more, why isn’t he saying more? Why, why, _why_?

He wants Essek to do anything to prove what he said that night, that his allegiance lies with them before any country or deity or any other power, just as Caleb’s does. 

Caleb wants so desperately to make that next step that it makes his entire soul ache.

But as Essek finishes tracing the glyphs in the air and the breath of magic sweeps him away, Caleb closes his eyes and sighs, fingertips digging into his arms but not quite feeling it.

That step isn’t his to make.


End file.
